This is the story of a bird that I killed in New Hampshire about 5-6 yrs ago. I can't remember exactly. I was hunting with a good friend and refer to him in the story. I posted this on a forum I was pretty active on at that time. I saved the post.

I hope I can do this bird justice relaying this story. He's the smallest three yr. old I've ever shot at only 16.5 pounds and skinny as a rail. His beard was only 8.5 " and kind of spindly and his spurs were nice but really nothing special at 1" but they're needle sharp and his wing-tips were gone. If I had to put human qualities to him I'd say he was the Clint Eastwood type.

This quest started on Tue. morning when Dick and I stood at our usual listening spot at the "Honey Hole" a place that has produced 2 other 3 yr. old birds for Dick and I. Tue. was opening morning in NH and the anticipation was high. The morning broke clear and cold with temps around 28 degrees and no wind. Dick's first owl hoot was cut off by a gobble in the same roosting area that had produced both of our previous gobbler's. Well the logical thing to do was to set up where we had killed both of em and that's exactly what we did. Well this guy wasn't gonna play that game and he headed to the "front" field with his harem of at least 3 hens where he would give us that occasional curteous gobble. After a couple hrs. of us calling occasionally and him gobbling occasionally we decided we were gonna have to try for him Wed. morning with a little different tactics and we took off in an opposite direction to do some running and gunning. We came close while running and gunning. A story Dick has already posted. We talked tactics on the way home and decided that Wed. morning I'd go to the rear field where we had the "near miss" and Dick would set up in the front field. We knew we would have our bases covered and felt pretty confident that one of us would kill this bird. This is that part of turkey hunting we all discuss and call woodsmanship. It wouldn't be calling that killed this bird.

Wed. AM the conditions were perfect at 28 degrees, clear and no wind. Dick dropped off at his spot and I continued down the woods rd. to my designated spot in the back field. As I eased up to the field in the dark I saw the two biggest deer I've ever seen on the foot. They were huge! I stood in the road and looked at em through my new Swarovski EL's. Man I love those binoculars. Well I had to get to my spot so I continued on and spooked em out of the field. It was still 20 min. to first light so I wasn't concerned about the noise they made running through the woods. I sat down on the rock wall that surrounds the field and just enjoyed the woods waking up. After a few unanswered owl hoots things looked about rt. for me to really wake things up with a few blasts from my "Power Crow". I've really come to rely on this tactic for shock gobbling action in the am. I'll usually switch to a crow call as soon as the songbirds crank up and way before any real crows start. It works. I pulled the "Power Crow" from my pocket and hit it hard- Caww! Caww! immeditately I got cut off by a gobble across the field in a small ravine that separated the two rear fields. There's actually 3 fields that make up the "Honey Hole" and I was covering the two rear fields. Not knowing which field this guy would fly down into I set up rt. where I was and waited for flydown time. All of the birds we heard this wk. hit the ground at approx. 5:30 give or take a few minutes. At around 5:20 I slipped a Supreme Split V 3.5 into my mouth and hit him with some short quiet tree yelps. Both fields are small at about 5-10 acres and I know he heard me. No response- so I just sat and waited. Rt. on time at about 5:30 I heard a definite ground gobble in the other field. Dammit!! I jumped up and took off back down my side of the ravine so that I could get into the same field with him. The edge of the field he was in juts out into the field and gave me some cover as I literally belly crawled to a small island of trees. I didn't know it at the time but that island was gonna be my home for the next 3 hrs. I already had the mouth call in my mouth so I yelped softly and got an immediate response from a hen followed by a loud gobble. I thought maybe just maybe I could pull em around the tip of the peninsula that stood between us so I yelped excitedly and cutt a couple of times. Man that po'd the other hen and she cranked up and so did the gobbler. About this time I heard another hen coming through the woods from the other side of the field. The calling contest was on!! The crowd drifted out into the field where I could get a good look at em about 75-80 yds. away and they raised hell with me. Over the next few hrs. we had a duel. I watched as he bred both hens and while he was breeding one the other one would dust in a large pile of ashes and through dust 6-8 ft. into the air. What a sight! Again, man I love my binoc's. While all of this gobbling, yelping, cutt'n, purring (I can't think of anything I didn't through at em I even resorted to gobbling at one point) was going on I catch a glimpse of a bird on a mission walking rt. down the middle of field no more than 40 yds. away from me. This bird has a 6 in. beard!! but it's another hen!! Well she heads to the party and is promply bred and then she jumps into the pile of ashes too!! God, I wish I had had a video camera. All of this happens over a 2 hr. period and I'm one big cramp. Everything was cramped up and taking turns torturing me. I got cramps in places I didn't know I had muscles! and tried every position possible to alleviate things all the while trying to hide in this small clump of leafless trees. I showed Dick where I had spent the morning and it looked like a 6 ft. diameter hog wallow. I decided to wait this guy out. Finally his hens started ever so slowly making their way out of the field and I thought that maybe if I could distract him enough they would get away from him and I would finally have a one on one situation. As they fed out of the field and headed on their merry way content with being fed, bred and well dusted I got the break I was looking for. I was able to get him to hang back and strut and gobble. He would gobble at every turkey related sound I could throw at him and after the hens had been gone for about 5 min. I realized that he was finally ALONE. He wanted me bad and his gobbling picked up to a fevered pitch. At one point he literally gobbled 12 times in a row and just ran out of steam and started gobbling like a jake with 2 or 3 syllables. I thought he might just collapse. BUT!! he wouldn't venture out into the field. All I needed was 20 yds. He was 60 yds. from me for at least 30 min. and he gobbled non-stop. I actually felt sorry for him. All this time I had my gun on my knee and my cheek on the stock. My fingers, ribs and diaphram cramped up. I decided it just wasn't going to happen and shut up. Maybe he'll just decide to come over. Nope, he headed back to the section of field he had flown and roosted near. I let him go. When he got out of sight I collapsed and just laid there. Depressed, no elated, I don't know how I felt. Then he gobbled again!! I rolled over and crawled out of the field and hauled ass to the back field and tried to circle him. Well in my haste I spooked a bird that I think was him. Anyways the gobbling ended. As I gathered my thoughts and thought about what had taken place I knew I could kill him the next morning IF he made the mistake of doing the same thing twice. I went to where the dust pile was and looked for my ambush spot. I picked a spot amongst the penisula of aspens 30 yds. away. As I trimmed things and prepared a spot Dick walked up. I told him a turkey was gonna die Thurs. morning if he made that mistake of doing the same thing twice. Now for the "rest of the story".

Again, Thur. we woke to good conditions 28 degrees, clear and no wind. I wished Dick good luck as he took his stand in the front field. We were 10 min. earlier than Wed. morning. We knew I would have to slip into my spot in complete darkness. As I got to the field I eased to the treeline and tip toed to the peninsula rt. along the tree line and then I crawled the last few yds. and sat against the tree I had prepared the day before. Damn it's cold up there in May. I shivered and tried to warm my hands as I waited for dawn. I hadn't heard a peep and when the songbirds cranked up I decided to check things with the ol "Power Crow". CAWW!
CAWW! split the silence. GEOBBBLLEE!! from the same spot as the day before. Big mistake!
I waited a few min. and yelped softly on my Supreme 3.5 split V. No anwer but I really didn't expect one I just wanted to seal the deal. I eased my gun onto my knee and slid down to adjust my aim. Whop-whop-whop I actually see him fly out of a tree on the edge of the field and he lands 40 yds. away but with a little bit of brush between us. No need to hurry things he's bound to offer a better shot in a few seconds. He immediately breaks into a strut and does a couple of pirouette's and now I hear a hen coming from across the field. The hammer on the Encore is already pulled and I'm just waiting for him stick his head out. The hen yelps loudly and he relaxes and stands up. BOOOOOOOM!! and it's all over. I had a real moment of reflection as I sat there on this frosty morning. Killing one of God's creatures can be so anti-climatic. Nope, he's not the best bird I've ever shot but he sure rank's up there with the most memorable.

Dick said I scared the sh-- out of him as he approached on the logging rd. we walk in on. He said "just as I was thinking about how quiet the morning was you shot". We high fived it and just relished in the moment shared amongst a couple of good friends.

I couldn't decide which picture to put up so I put em both up.

I love it when a plan comes together.

Thanks Dick for a great week!


Dan